This is What Rock 'n Roll Looks Like
by Mer3Girl
Summary: Odette Channing seeks liberation in life from her over-protective brother, and from her own peers in high school. In the process, she discovers her dynamic self while romancing with the focus of her quiet infatuation, Rodrick Heffley. T for Language!
1. Chapter 1

**_Summary: _**

_Odette Channing seeks liberation in life from her over-protective brother, Dean, and from her own peers in high school. In the process, she discovers her dynamic self while romancing with the focus of her quiet infatuation, Rodrick Heffley. **Rated T for language. (unedited ((sex)) third chapter coming soon!)**_

**_Author's Note: _**_Hello everyone! This is my first fanficition for Diary of a Whimpy Kid. This will be a three-shot fic, meaning this story will have only three chapters. _

_Although this fic is Rodrick x OC, please note the OC is **not** a marysue! My OC, Odette, is based off of a new singer, **Porcelain Black, **who inspired me to write this after viewing her music video, **This is What Rock 'n Roll Looks Like**. _

_Hope you enjoy! _

_~Much love_

**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own any DOAWK characters mentioned. I DO, however, own Odette and Dean Channing. _

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><p><em><span>This Is What Rock 'n Roll Looks Like<span>_

"I'm going to band practice later after class. Tell mom, would ya?...Sis?...Odette!"

Dean shouted from the foyer with a beaten red plaid backpack slung over one shoulder. It was painfully close to eight thirty, and the siblings were in dire need to leave the house for school. Of course, Dean simply did not care for his attendance. However, his younger sister was another story. He was vigilant of Odette, or "Oddy" as he named her due to her eccentric and introverted ways. How was this so?

"Sorry, Dean. Needed an extra second.." spoke an alto, somewhat raspy voice.

The petite young lady with curved legs was clad all in lovely midnight shades, a floor length black skirt with lace trim concealing her lower body, and a purposely ripped "Alice In Chains" t-shirt which bared one vanilla crème shoulder. Her hair was…well…

"What the HELL?" Dean murmured, his crystal blue eyes wide as the blazing sun.

Odette's previously chestnut brown hair had been partially dyed a platinum blonde, while the other half was a raven black.

"I felt compelled to, I cannot explain why! I love it," she simply stated, a closed mouth smile tugging at the corners of her petal rose lips.

Dean merely smirked as he composed himself from the outrageous sight.

"Mom is going to _murder _you," he chuckled.

As Odette descended the mahogany staircase with rapid footsteps, she spoke with certainty.

"If she hasn't killed me _yet, _then I should be still breathing sweet air when I come home."

"Touche'. But still.."

"You'd like that wouldn't you?"

"Perhaps."

The pair of youths exited the empty household, the elder sibling permitting Odette to walk out before him. She bid him "thanks," and the ten minute walk to hell school, erm, _high _school began.

_***Next Scene***_

"I have an idea for the band," Odette began.

"You always have ideas for the band," her brother shot down.

"Dean, c'mon, I can really help out! I can help you get recognition!"

Dean and Odette were close to the school entrance, passing by the group of hipsters and art fanatics grouped together beneath a blossoming cherry tree.

"Oddy, we're fine on our own. We don't need you barging in on our scene."

"_Scene_? What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"You wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't understand? Dean, stop looking at me as if I'm still your baby sister. I want to work with you, I want to really make this band soar."

"First off, it's _Rodrick's _band, and I'm the singer. Second, you're too young. Third, I don't want some horny douchebags chasing after my baby sister."

"Look, I appreciate the concern, but…you and I have always loved music since we were kids. Ever since you joined LD, you pushed me away, and don't even include me anymore."

"It's nothing personal, I wish you would let that go! It's a different world, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stay out and be safe!"

And she remained silent, as per usual.

Entering through the large double door entrance of the school, they progressed through some of the crowded madhouse of a hallway before encountering a rather tall, dark haired young man with plump pink lips and an innate devilish twinkle in his eye. Rodrick…And cue the blonde/brunette's cheeks to flush scarlet.

"Dean," the young man greeted.

"Hey, vamp boy," Dean teased.

"'Vamp boy'?" he repeated.

"The black get-up, the smeared eyeliner from last night's gig. Dude, you're frickin' Dracula."

"Oh shut up," he seethed.

"And now you sound like my sister."

It was now Odette's turn to transmit a dagger-sharp glare in his direction.

"Yeah, well, at least Odette's cool," Rodrick responded smoothly, looking in the said young lady's direction.

She smiled to herself.

"Dude, shut up. I'll see you later. Odette, wait for me after class, ok?"

"Yes, my liege," she answered sarcastically, brushing a pale gold lock of hair behind her ear.

With that said, Dean left for his first period class sluggishly, leaving his younger sister alone with his bandmate.

"Uh," Odette breathed, nervous in her current situation with the young man she fancied for quite some time.

"So.." Rodrick spoke. "Heading to your locker?"

"Yeah, yeah. I mean, yes.."

"Cool, I'll walk with you. I'm avoiding first period as much as possible."

She tittered, her nerves settling down beneath her flushed skin.

"Why is that, hm?"

"Ms. Ingate. Need I say more? The prehistoric bat wants my blood, I'm telling ya."

Rodrick and Odette walked beside one another, locating her locker down the end of the hall.

"What did you do now, set her hair on fire?" she humored.

"God, I _wish_!" he shouted, his hazel irises lighting up with thrill.

"Ha ha! Well, I just inspired you."

"Perhaps, perhaps."

The pair had both arched a single eyebrow humorously, only to laugh further more. The laughter ceased with Odette when three young ladies, clad in pink plaid and khaki delights, passed by, snickering in her direction. She did not need subhuman hearing to register the audition sourcing from one of their glossed pretty lips. "_Freak!"_

She despised the fact that this consistent teasing was able to slither through her veins, pestering her. Even before her hair antics, she was known as the recluse, the odd one, the _circus freak_ who drew on her arms out of boredom. Only occasionally would her older brother be present to repel these neanderthals from his precious sibling.

Taking notice of this nonsense, Rodrick automatically saluted a middle finger in their direction.

"Fuck. You."

The young lady was slightly surprised, yet simultaneously flattered. Although intense by nature, Rodrick did have a side that exhibited loyalty. Either way, the gesture made Odette smile.

The tall brunette withdrew his whimsical slim hand, and looked back down onto the shorter young lady beside him.

"Give them no mind, you hear me? They have no class."

"Hmm," she partially smiled. "Neither do we."

"Yeah, but we make it look _good," _he winked.

Arriving at the very last locker door down the hall, Odette rested a hand on the turning knob of the lock before settling her darling crystalline irises upon the naturally flushed tan face and chiseled cheekbones of the young man.

"Thanks, Rodrick. You're pretty cool sometimes," she admitted shyly.

"I keep telling my brother that, but he doesn't seem to agree."

"Wow, you're not arrogant at all," she teased.

"Nope, not the least," he grinned in response.

"Well…Thank you. I'll see you around."

"You too," he said as he waved and turned to walk back down the hallway.

His footsteps ceased, however, turning back around to look at Odette with an uncharacteristic gentle look.

"For the record," he began with a velvet voice laced with introversion. "I like your hair that way."

Odette grinned, her arms crossing before her bosom. That lovely look on her face was just as good as a "thank you" in Rodrick's mind. He dismissed himself once again by walking back down the hallway. Her eyes drifted slowly over his back….how the thin cotton black t-shirt seemed to hang from his lean frame so seductively, carelessly. The way his studded black belt hung loosely around his hips. The way his denim pants just hugged his-

'Ugh!' thought Odette. 'Stop it, damnit! Stop looking, stop looking!'

Thus, she stopped, flushing a maddening shade of scarlet as she unlocked her locker and began to dump her bookbag's contents into the compartment.

"Damn you, Rodrick Heffley…" she grumbled.

_***Next Scene* **_

Throughout the rest of the cloudy Thursday, the mind of Odette had progressed in its swarming of the years-old argument between her and her elder brother, and the stifled attraction towards Rodrick. Dean would never approve. He never did. He had a way of tainting her relationships with boys, which was not many to begin with. 'Gee, I wonder why,' she thought sarcastically. She could easily recall a time when she was thirteen, and a boyfriend had come by to study. Dean, unfortunately, had also been home, leaving the battle field open for the protective young man. He so-called "disliked the guy's attitude," and threw the poor boy into a dumpster.

Family ties. Oh, how dreadfully bothersome it all was…

She was tired of being suppressed, not only by Dean, but by her parents, her peers, everything. She felt as if there was always someone to judge her, pressure her into a certain molded figure. She despised it all with such passion. Yet, she also despised herself for allowing this all to disgruntle her.

She prayed for freedom…Freedom from herself.

These realizations and ponderings had been swimming within her mental chambers for some time. A plan had actually been conceived over the course of a few days to break her own rules and regulations. The bi-polarized dying of her once chestnut honey locks was only the first step.

Depicting images of leather and lace clothes with intense vocabulary and musings, Odette was set to perform to this very night at band practice…at Rodrick Heffley's residence.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: **Hello! Chapter 2 is here. :) Thank you to **Superdani** for the wonderful review! And thanks to **Porcelain Black **(She's my goddess, I love her)for inspiring this mini-fic, it's super fun to write. _

_To those reading this fic: Thanks for reading and adding to the hits! Hope you have been enjoying thus far!_

_Please review! Let me know what you think!_

~Much love

**+05/8/11+: Sorry for the typos! I have exams coming up, and I don't have a beta reader, so typos escape me now and then. **

**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own any DOAWK characters mentioned. The lyrics provided are from the song "I'm Broken" by Pantera (God, i love them!). I own Odette and Dean Channing. _

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 2<strong>_

The mirror stood atop the cherrywood vanity dresser, its oval visage engulfing her porcelain flesh, winter irises, and parted peony lips. She coveted damp air as her heart persisted in racing. Tonight was the night.

Band practice had likely started fifteen minutes ago. Odette had been donning torn lace stockings, miniature black snake leather shorts, and a spandex, sleeveless turtle neck top that embraced her bosom deliciously. On her feet were platform combat boots with a scarlet ribbon tied around one ankle (a little perk for luck). She sat before the mirror, sorting through various cosmetics in the drawer.

Translucent powder to diminish shine, intensify the shadow contours of her cheekbones. Midnight mascara to lengthen her lashes to the heavens above. Gel eyeliner in noir bliss to frame her crystalline eyes, an exaggerated and bold feline tail drawn from the outer corner of her eyes. Finally, she retrieved a slim tube of scarlet lipstick. Slick and smooth, the red cream accentuated her plump lips.

With her strands of raven flesh and platinum waves, Odette was the image of a deranged, punk rock silent film starlet. The description given is odd and confusing, yet it was sensible to perfection within the young lady's mind. Now, the interesting aspect: could she support her décor with her actions?

We shall see.

Her throat warmed and clear, she was ready.

_***Next Scene* **_

The Heffley household was not difficult to locate in the slightest. Odette had visited once or twice with her older brother. The defining feature, however, was the monster van with "Löded Diaper" painted on the side with sloppy black paint. She thought to herself: 'I'm sorry, but that name needs to be changed severely…Oh well, not my decision, I guess.'

A knee-length leather jacket had covered most of her body, her mane rustling in the gentle breeze. She had prayed that Rodrick's parents were not home; she would not fancy to have met them in this particular "get-up." She certainly did not wish to frighten them away or assume that she was a high-class exotic dancer. Odette snickered at the thought. 'Yeah, right…' Approaching the household, she walked up the driveway only to be stopped by the sight of two young boys exiting the front door, one carrying a backpack over his shoulder.

The young boys were frozen in their stance, gawking at Odette's appearance. The more rotund of the two ended up grinning, his eyes twinkling.

"Wow! Cool hair!" he said, his face like that of a lovely, plump cherub.

The other young boy, however, cocked an eyebrow.

"Let me guess, you're one of Rodrick's friends, right?"

Odette snickered.

"What gave it away?" she said, her hands in her pockets.

"I know these things," the slimmer young boy commented coolly.

"You're Greg, aren't you," she stated. "You're brother has mentioned you before."

"I-I'm Rowley!" shouted the rotund young boy, jumping up and down.

Greg merely dismissed his friend's behavior.

"Unfortunately, yeah," he began. "I'm nothing like him! So, whatever stupid stuff he's done, I don't follow!"

Laughter erupted the air as Odette was amused.

"Whoa, whoa, calm down! Trust me, I didn't think you'd be anything like him. You seem more rational."

"Oh…Ok, nevermind then, heh heh," Greg muttered, embarrassed at having overly reacted. "Anyway, Rodrick's in the garage with the band. I think they're on break no-"

Cue the obnoxious guitars and booming drum beats.

"Ok, maybe not. They're playing now!" Greg shouted over the music.

"I figured!" replied Odette. "Well, nice meeting you!"

The young lady waved just before they parted ways. They were sweet; she enjoyed the boys very much. They were able to relax her nerves with laughter. Standing before the garage door, which was vibrating from the loud music, she decided to kick it in order to get their attention.

No response.

She kicked harder with her heel, twice.

Luckily, the music ceased, voices conversing before the garage door slowly began to rise from the ground. With a single deep breath, Odette was prepared to impress and amaze.

Little by little, the garage door opened slowly, the "clank" of the metal and chains sounding off.

"Are your parents home?" questioned a tenor voice.

"No, man," answered another, slightly deeper voice.

It was Rodrick.

"I told you," he continued. "..they're out to dinner for the night."

The conversation came to an immediate demise once the garage door, revealing a pair of onyx laced legs…then leather and spandex…and finally, polarized silk locks.

"Oddy!" shouted Dean, the microphone still held captive in his large hand.

"Wha's up?" greeted Glen, the guitarist, with a wide grin.

"Shut up," Dean dismissed him, returning his flared gaze back onto his younger sister. "What, did Mom send you?"

"No, Dean," she responded coolly, crossing her arms. "I came here to make a proposition."

Dean combed his peach crème fingers through his ash blonde hair as he advanced toward Odette. His voice was low and stern.

"If this is about the band-"

"Dean, let her talk," Rodrick interjected, flashing a domineering look of his own toward the lead singer.

The young man stepped back, and lowered his head, attempting to pacify his frustrations. The young lady could feel her arterial treasure thumping and contracting wildly from beneath her bosom; she worried that the young men could see it protruding through her jacket. Odette seized the opportunity to take advantage of the current silence.

"Guys, look," she began. "..I don't know if my brother has ever spoken of this, but he and I used to create our own music. It started in middle school, and we truly bonded over that. Now, you have him in LD, and he refuses to expose me to certain 'scenes.' I'm here to convince Dean that I'm sturdier than I look, and to also convince you that I'd make a great addition to the band...as a second vocalist."

Her last statement ended with the removal of her leather jacket, revealing her slight, delicate torso enveloped in midnight spandex. The bandmates, with the exception of Dean, were simultaneously baffled by and pleased with her appearance. 'I knew that'd work,' she mused in a thought.

"She's in!" Glen declared rather foolishly.

"Are we even looking for new members?" questioned Ward, the bassist, tuning his instrument out of habit.

"Guys, I started this band, so I have a say in this first," Rodrick firmly contended, holding up his large, slim hands as a signal for the young men to refrain from any further comments.

The said drummer now fixed his dark cocoa irises upon Odette, his sharp facial features softening slightly. Of course, he withheld his slick composure in the presence of his bandmates.

"Show us what you got," he spoke to her with a partial smile.

His lips were ever so alluring in that moment. She craved to tackle him, and claim him behind the drum set. Snapping back to reality, the young lady responded with a look mirroring Rodrick's direct and daring countenance.

"I'd love to. You mind if I pick a song?"

"No. Which one did you have in mind?"

"Mmm.." she hummed in contemplation. "..Do you know any Pantera stuff?"

"Who doesn't?" smirked Ward, impressed with the young lady's selection.

"Me, that's who doesn't," Glen challenged.

"Yeah, well, you're a douchebag," Ward retorted with.

Dean retained his silence. He was outnumbered in this impromptu audition, and thus stood aside with his arms crossed before his broad chest.

"Ok, then what about 'I'm Broken?'" Odette offered. "The beat is repetitive and simple to follow."

"Yeah, so just follow Ward, ok Glen?" said Rodrick, twirling a drumstick between his fingers.

"Cool," the guitarist agreed.

Stepping up closer to the band setup, Odette tossed her leather jacket onto a nearby cardboard box. Rodrick had already closed the garage door as she looked to her elder brother, who still possessed the microphone. In silence, she sincerely communicated her pleading request with wide eyes and downturned lips. Several seconds had passed on before Dean finally succumbed (reluctantly, mind you) to her, and gave the microphone to her. She smiled warmly up at him.

She knew that he was trying to be understanding; he did not wish to persist in an argument that would further feed a wedge between him and his sister. This way, they could still fulfill their dreams together, and he would still be able to look after her.

As Dean stepped backward to lean up against the wood paneled wall, the young lady looked to the bandmates with a cheshire grin, and simply nodded.

With four echoing taps of the drumsticks, the music began with a thundering bass. Her black and blonde tresses danced vividly in the air as she banged her head up and down before growling the lyrics.

_I wonder if we'll smile in our coffins  
>while loved ones mourn the day,<br>the absence of our faces,  
>living, laughing, eyes awake.<br>Is this too much for them to take?_

Too young for one's conclusion, the lifestyle won.  
>Such values you taught your son.<br>That's hooowww…That's hooowww

_Look at me nnooooowwww_

_I'm broken.  
>Inherit myy liiiiiife.<em>

_I'm broken._

_Uuhh!_

Oohh, the thumping percussion…The pounding of the bass and guitar making love in the damp air. Now this was a true opiate surging through Odette's veins. Her cheeks were flushed, her throat felt as if a little monster were shredding the tender wet flesh from inside. It did not matter. She was here, alive in this moment, the music at her fingertips, her lips.

_One day we all will die, a cliched fact of life.  
>Force fed to make us heed.<br>Inbred to sponge our bleed.  
>Every warning, a leaking rubber,<br>a poison apple for mingled blood._

_Too young for one's delusion the lifestyle cost_  
><em>Venereal Mother embrace the loss.<em>  
><em>That's hoooowww..that's hhoooowww<em>

_Look at you nooooowwww._

_You're broken_  
><em>Inherit yooouurr liiiiiffee<em>

_You're broken_

_You're broke…_

_Uuuhh!_

The song had finished with the repetitive melody of the bass, the guitar in pursuit just behind. Sweat glistened on her pale flesh, her cheeks flushing a healthy glow of crimson. She slowly turned around to face the band. Her vision, encased in twinkling ice, had only focused on one bandmate, however. Rodrick locked eyes with Odette as he had lowered his throbbing biceps and forearms from their raised positions over the drumset. His lips were parted, his tan flesh ethereal in glow and supple to kiss, to touch..Her limbs threatened to collapse, her body moist from the active movements and screaming vocals she had just performed. The raven strands over his narrow eyes, his thick neck wet and slick..

_If only, in only_…this garage withheld only two bodies..

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><p><em>Read and Review, Mon Cherie..<em>


	3. Author's Note: Rating Change

Hey all,

I've changed this fic from an **M** rating to a **T** rating. To be honest, the first two chapters are not explicit enough to be mature content. I feel that they're safe under a T rating. So, I am planning on editing the third chapter so that it'll agree with a **T** rating. And then, I will post the explicit version of the third chapter as a separate fic under an **M** rating because there will be sex involved.

So, basically, they'll be straightforward content, and the unedited section just for us perverts, haha!

Does this sound alright to you as a reader? Hit me up via review/PM, and let me know what you think of this plan.

Thanks in advance!

~Much love


	4. Chapter 3

_**Author's Note: **Last chapter is here! Thank you to **whitinstereo **for the feedback on the rating change! Also, thanks to **Edrenalin26 **for the great review! I tried sending you a PM, but it's disabled, so I'll just respond to you right here! :)_

_**Edrenalin26**: Thanks so much! It means a lot when people appreciate the descriptions, I want to make things as real as possible for the reader to experience. Yeah, Dean is very protective. I actually based him off of Dean Winchester from Supernatural. I imagine him being protective if he had a sister, so that's where Odette's brother came from. :) _

_Anyways...After writing this last chapter, I have an idea for a sequel. Rodrick is just too fun to stop writing! You'll get a hint of what it'll be about in the last paragraph of this chapter. Thanks for reading, people! _

_Please review! I want to make sure people are actually enjoying the story, so if you respond with reviews, I'll have the unedited version of this chapter posted up quickly. ;) _

_Thanks again._

_~Much love_

**_Disclaimer: _**_I do not own Nine Inch Nails, Trent Reznor (I wish I did though!), Fuse, Marilyn Manson, Jane's Addiction, and the lyrics to "Closer" by NIN. I DO own Odette and Dean Channing. _

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 3<strong>_

_If only, if only…this garage withheld only two.._

The interlocked vision between the blood-surging teenagers was broken when Odette redirected her attention to the bassist (nodding in approval) and the guitarist (shouting with glee).

"Ah-riiight!"

A hand gingerly placed upon her pale shoulder, turning her about to face its owner. The young lady looked up into her brother's crystalline irises, his countenance at ease. Unexpectedly, a smirk tugged at a corner of his thin lips.

"Looks like we have a personal Maria Brink here," he commented smoothly.

"I told you, dude. She's good," Rodrick crossed his arms, his head raised up with pride.

"You told me nothing, Heffley!" Dean argued. "_Ya freak_."

Odette was still out of breath from the ear-splitting, thundering performance. Her scream-vocals rivaled jagged razorblade edges. It was tiring to the throat, however! Painful afterward, yet so worth it in the end. Her nervous tension had eased, and she was able to relax in the present moment.

After a private discussion between the young men about the matter, a final verdict was chosen. Their tightly knit huddle was broken as they all faced Odette, her tresses a beautiful mess.

"Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. Seven p.m. Be here," Rodrick instructed with a false dominant tone; he meant to be humorous with her, not reveal his inner joy towards her new, more frequent attendance.

"You got it," she grinned with gratitude, happy beyond words.

The young lady looked to her elder brother. He finally accepted her. They weren't separate any longer. They back to "Oddy and Dean, the musical nut-job sibs." She embraced Dean around his narrow waist. For fun, he pinched his nose, pretending to have smelt a horrid scent.

"Oddy, you smell. Get off."

"Shut it!" she shouted, separating herself from his form to punch his shoulder.

Glen and Ward chuckled to themselves. As for Rodrick, he was busying himself with sheets of music and lyrics.

"Ok," he began. "We still have work to do. Last show, there were a few songs that lacked edge, so we need to bump it up a notch. Maybe tomorrow we can combine Dean and Oddy's vocals on certain songs, and see how that goes."

The bandmates agreed in unison, knowing very well their faults within the last gig they performed. Dean was given the microphone, his tool of the trade. His younger sister sat on a nearby crate, watching her brother perform a practice concert. 'A show just for me,' she mused.

_***Next Scene***_

The house was silent, devoid of any noise to pester. No mother constantly wailing names. No baby brother stealing his dirty magazines ('Thank God Manny's with Grandma!'). No father fussing over his civil war figures like China White (cocaine). No whiney little brother running amuck, trespassing in other people's rooms. Yes, Rodrick was more than satisfied to be left alone in an empty household.

Band practice had ended a few minutes ago. Glen and Ward departed for their homes, while Dean and Odette left together shortly after. To exit the garage and step into a peaceful, quiet home was a pleasant dream. 'If only fake rat infestations worked to get rid of them,' he thought, recounting a time when he first began to exercise his fibbing talents. Of course, he had forgotten the rubber rodents to support the lie. Rodrick laughed to himself.

"Good times," he murmured, his dark eyes narrowed in amusement.

Flopping down onto the plush sofa in the living room, the forever disheveled young man kicked off his aged black converse sneakers. He cared not where they landed; he'll find them wherever they happen to be next time. The nearby remote was seized, and the television flashed on with technicolor vibrancy. Before he could even begin to rapidly skim the channels, there was a gentle knock on the front door. Rodrick groaned at the vexation, silently cursing the one who dared to disturb him during his "down time."

"Yeah, yeah, hold on," he bellowed, lazily rolling off of the sofa and onto his feet.

With heavy footsteps of a mammoth, Rodrick made his way to the door. The opening revealed the porcelain creature in black that was Ms. Odette Channing.

"Odette?" said he, his scowl vanishing rather quickly.

"Hey.." she greeted, her voice a tad husky and quiet.

"I thought you went home."

"I changed my mind. I don't want to go home just yet. It gets crowded from time to time…Can I stay here with you?"

This was unexpected. Rodrick stifled the burning in his cheeks and chest at the thought of such a lovely girl..alone..with _him. _Sure, he was a flirt from time to time, partaking in a good number of sensual escapades. Chasing after pretty young nymphs in a miniature skirt. But Odette? Ugh…He, dare he think, was nervous. 'Is that even fucking possible?' he thought.

He suppressed his urges in the past not because of her overbearing brother; he knew how to deal with him. It was, perhaps, his fear of her rejection of him. Her opinion actually _mattered_. Why humiliate himself if he had no inkling whatsoever of her own feelings towards him? Other young women, he cared not in the slightest what they thought of him! Rodrick wouldn't contemplate too much on it. He was not one to obsess over pesky emotions (or so he thought).

"Of course," he responded. "You don't have to ask. Not like I'll get the shotgun out."

She smiled. Odette found his brash humor amusing. Stepping out of the way, the young man granted entry to Odette. She walked in, and settled herself on the sofa, the television still on. Rodrick locked the door before joining her, easing into the welcoming forest green cushions.

"So…you want something to drink?" he offered, not entirely sure of how to go about this situation.

"No, I'm fine," she answered tranquilly, her curved legs crossed.

Conversation was replaced with channel surfing for a few minutes. The pair of youths had decided on watching a stream of music videos on the channel, "Fuse." The videos were chosen by the night's selected host, Trent Reznor of the dark and sexually delicious band, "Nine Inch Nails." Rodrick chuckled at the uncontrolled "eep!" escaping Odette's lips at the sight of Trent.

"I take it you wanna watch this?" he questioned, his smirk impish.

"Can we? Oohh, I've loved Nine Inch Nails since I was thirteen," she cooed, her fingers now over her flushed cheeks.

"He's a little _old _for you, don't you think?" he playfully jeered.

"Age matters not," Odette said with a false scholarly tone to her voice.

"Tell that to the government."

"Oh, quiet!"

Rodrick stuck out his pink tongue childishly, grinning like the overgrown little boy that he was.

Further into the show, Trent Reznor had spoken of a previous tour he had done with Jane's Addiction and Marilyn Manson.

"That must have been odd," Odette commented.

"Yeah," Rodrick agreed. "If I couldn't tell whether some guy on my tour was a woman or not, I'd go apeshit."

"No, not that! Trent was actually a mentor to Manson in the early '90's. Eventually, they just didn't see eye-to-eye, and left their friendship to whither. To perform with someone whom you're not too fond of, especially an old friend, is awkward."

"Oh, I see. That's business. You just get over it, and go play your music. You're not there to please everyone."

The video now showing was a live performance of one of NIN's more deliciously provocative songs. The roaring of the millions of people erupted, their shadowed bodies a black sea of glittering monsters, chanting for a spiritual release. A steady electronic beat began. A pale stage light birthed upon the stage, the fair skin of the musicians glowing like perennial marble statues.

Rodrick had heard this song on the radio before. To him, it possessed this cryptic, sensual melody. Certain lyrics captured the attention of his more carnal self.

"_You let me penetrate you_

_You let me complicate you"_

His full lips parted slightly, eyes half-hooded. Despite the space between him and Odette, he could sense a heat emanating from her. An image of her supple pale flesh was conjured in his mind. So flawless and smooth, almost rivaling that of a Celtic vampire. His breath became shallow. Just to touch…taste…feel.

"_I wanna feel you from the inside_

_I wanna f- you like an animal_

_My whole existence is flawed"_

"Uuhhh…I'll be in the kitchen for a sec," he sputtered, leaving the living room in a pedantic fashion.

As he entered the kitchen, he mouthed "_shit, shit, shit." _He slapped his large hands onto his face, shaking his head from west to east. 'Snap out of it! Jesus, what was _that?_' Dismissing the bubbling inferno within his belly and groin, Rodrick busied himself by opening the fridge door, peering at nothing in particular. The chill was soothing, and forced the young man to calm down. He sighed deeply, only to be startled by a touch to his bicep.

"Holy-!" he turned about to find Odette stepping away from him.

"I'm sorry!" she raised her voice, bemused by Rodrick's sudden change in behavior.

He seemed to have made her feel uncomfortable, the young lady wondering if it was improper of her to be here.

"Are you ok? You look tense," she pointed out, rubbing her arm for comfort.

"I'm fine, fine," he answered with an exaggerated grin. "Wh-why would I be tense? Heh heh.."

Rodrick attempted to appear collected and suave, shutting the fridge door with his foot, then leaning his back against it. He slid his hands into his black denim pockets as he watched the blonde/brunette mirror his stance, her lower back leaning against the counter. This position did not ease his nerves. Dark cacao irises shifted to and fro, his tension painfully obvious.

Unfortunately, the young lady had misread his body language. The sight of her wide periwinkle eyes fading in embarrassment caused the young man's heart to sink. 'Oh, no…Nice going, shit head,' he cursed himself.

"It's alright. I understand. I invited myself over and-"

"No, it's not you," he interjected.

"Rodrick, it's fine," she smiled sadly. "I'll, uh..head home now."

With one last glance up at his tan visage, Odette escorted herself from the kitchen. The young man rubbed his eyes out of frustration, having had enough with his foolishness in front of her.

"Oddy, wait. Please!"

Rushing out of the kitchen, he pleaded for her to stay. Luckily, there she was, the door slightly ajar with her back facing him. She did not turn to gaze at him.

"I'm sorry, ok? It's not you; don't even _think_ that you bother me."

Her head shifted to the right, waved locks dancing against her leather jacket.

"Stay with me," he murmured, the words audible enough for Odette to hear.

Slowly, she turned around to gaze up at the disgruntled young man. Even with platform combat boots, she was still short, reaching up only to Rodrick's Adam's apple. Closing the distance between them, Odette stood upon the tips of her toes, gingerly placing her hands on his naturally flushed cheeks. She pressed her rose petal lips against his plump pair, midnight lashes fluttering shut.

Odette could feel Rodrick's lean body mitigate from beneath her touch, melting like that of hot candle wax. The kiss ended sooner than she (and he) would like, Odette parting from his body. Opening the front door, she was just past the threshold when long, slim fingers captured her narrow waist. Her heart, an arterial treasure, skipped a beat as his fingers caressed the leather material. Odette was pulled back into the house, her body tuned about, returning to the heated sanctuary that was his body.

Inhibitions forgotten, the young lady thrashed herself against his lean torso, her lips coveting his own. Her little fingers tangled into his dark tresses as Rodrick forced her petite body to firmly press up against him. A kick had shut the front door.

Perky breasts pushed into his chest, the sensation so full, so divine; he could not refrain from a gentle gasp.

_Now. Now. Need it now._

With haste, Rodrick took hold of Odette's hand, and guided her up the wooden staircase. The last few chords of the song on television reverberated up through the hallway. Lyrics were now permanent murmurs sinking into the mahogany walls.

"_You bring me closer to God"_

The young lady regretted stopping their "entanglement," hungry enough to even take him at the foot of the staircase. No matter. Privacy was best. Pulling her up the attic stairs, the young man's grip tightened around her hand, knowing very well that he would not have to wait any longer for more of this new addiction. The door had been left open, allowing them to step into a dark room, hung Chinese lanterns casting a strange crimson and orange crème glow. Odette was dazzled by the dimly lit attic, the edges of the furniture enhanced in the light. It was…perfect.

Odette took off her leather jacket before him, lingering in the removal to tease Rodrick. Now it was her turn to take the lead, having envisioned this moment endlessly. She gently pushed Rodrick, forcing him to walk backwards until they reached a reclined armchair, forcing him to sit down. He retained a locked stare with her, his eyes half-hooded sensually, silently permitting her to do with his body as she wished.

She leaned over him, her small hands firmly pressed against the arms of the recliner. Her face was less than an inch away from his face, her hair serving as silk curtains tickling his tan cheeks. He could feel her hot breath mingling with his own, inhaling her sweet fire. A pair of lace-stocking legs now straddled his sides, the chair reclining even further.

Desert fleshed hands snaked around her hips as they rubbed into the denim of his pants, a bulge making itself known. The young lady dove in for a kiss. Rodrick traced over her lips with the tip of his tongue, teasing her. She caved, and dipped her tongue into his mouth. The more she rubbed her hips into his lower stomach and groin, the more he knead his fingers up and down her sides. The bulge further protruded, tightening his pants. It was a little flesh monster (well, _far _from little) clawing to surface, begging Odette to caress it.

Their movements became rougher, kisses turning into love bites. She nipped at his neck, forcing his head to lean back, exposing more of his skin. Tonguing his Adam's apple, she suckled on bits of flesh between her lips, gently biting now and then. He moaned, seething slightly at being bitten. However, the mixture of pleasure and pain felt astonishing; he wanted _more_.

Red marks adorned his thick neck. She smirked at her territorial marrings. Red lipstick had rubbed off mostly onto his lips and chin. The contrast of his dark eyes and the crimson smears was lovely; a beautiful cannibal Rodrick was. Playfully, he tugged at the hem of her top, pouting at the lack of skin showing.

"Hey," she breathed, a sultry smirk following. "You wait your turn."

"I don't _wait," _he retorted smoothly.

"…That's too bad."

Swiftly, she curled her fingers around the hem of his black shirt. She pulled it over his head, his long arms yielding. The toned lines of his chest and stomach entranced Odette as she trailed her finger down his torso. His breath was shallow, his thumb rubbing along her inner thigh. She sighed deeply at the touch, a smile spread on Rodrick's face.

With one more, juicy kiss upon bruised lips, Odette arched her back like a feline, and removed her spandex top.

_***Next Scene* **_

A melody of harsh breaths lingered in the damp air of the attic. Navy blue bed sheets were coiled around two pairs of legs, one golden tan while the other pale as a pearl. Odette's flushed face, trickling with sweat at her temples, rested upon Rodrick's chest, creating swirling patterns with her finger on the toned landscaping of his skin. The young man's nose was now buried in her hair, inhaling her scent of sandalwood and Egyptian musk.

She couldn't believe.

She just could not believe it.

Everything worked. Everything she set to do.

And she felt _liberated,_ unattached.

To retrieve a lost bond with her brother. To scream and shout music in front of people she didn't really know. To kiss the boy she fancied, and many more. She felt so proud and content. She felt strong. And yet…it was only for tonight.

She could not prolong these events. Sure, she was looking forward to working with the band, but this..this..whatever it was that she experienced with Rodrick could not last. Of course, she dreamed of more with him: a relationship, a never-ending bond. But, would that really happen? 'He'll forget this. I'm just another girl….' She thought morbidly. 'I need to focus on the band and finishing school anyway. We had sex, and that's it.'

Before parting from his warm embrace, Odette kissed the young man, slipping out of the bed.

"Odette?" he whispered. "Hey, wha-"

"I have to go," she responded curtly.

She retrieved her scattered clothing, among them torn lace stockings.

"Why? My parents aren't home. You know you can stay," said Rodrick, sitting up on the bed, sheets dropping around his hips.

She smiled sadly as she dressed herself.

"This was…nice. I loved it. But, I need to go now."

Her words were sincere, yet forlorn in the harsh reality she perceived: this cannot progress. She was not ready for a relationship that would hurt her in the end. Why spoil a fantasy? Oh, she was a silly, cynical girl. Aggravating, no?

"Odette, what is up with you?" Rodrick's voice toughened, bemused by this sudden change in behavior.

"Nothing."

The young lady opened the window that was beside the bed, crouching to exit. As she steadied herself on the slanted roof, Rodrick rose out of bed, grabbing her wrist tenderly.

"Wait. Why? What's with this act?" he interrogated.

She did not answer. Instead, she turned her head to the right, her profile illuminated in the silver beam of the moon.

"I heard the garage door open a minute ago. You might want to cover up," she advised him just before carefully sliding down the roof.

Odette jumped from the edge of the roof, not far from the top of Rodrick's white van. He stuck his head out of the window, his messy dark hair exposed to the cooling night air. Just as quickly as she left, she was sprinting down the sidewalk.

"What in the…" he muttered.

"Rodrick! Honey, are you still up? You left the TV on!"

It was Susan, his mother. Eyes bulging, Rodrick shut the window, and then hid himself beneath the sheets. He pretended to be sleeping just as Susan opened the door to his attic room. He could hear her footsteps scuffing against the steps. Her movements stopped once she saw her son's idle body "sleeping." She hummed, thinking the sight sweet (of course, she knew not what really happened).

When Susan left the room, closing the door, the young man opened his eyes. He just could not decipher why Odette left in the manner that she did. No girl had ever acted like that. Well, he did not have a night like _this_ with a girl before. However, he would expect for her stay for a while longer, basking in the afterglow of sex. No, this was not so. It was as if she _had _to leave, as if she had planned this all along. This time, it was a young lady who had taken charge, giving and withholding attention on her command, _not on his. _

Rodrick could not help but feel emasculated, the power not within his own hands but hers. Of course, he did have feelings for Odette, no mistaking that. He just did not expect someone to have the upper hand over _him, Rodrick Heffley. _The young man could not figure if he should beg her to return, or to be angry with her for doing what would be expected of a young man. She had guts, he had to admit.

This only made him want her more, strangely, someone who can stare him in the eyes and be his equal.

Of course, he would not let this emasculating go. He would have to fight back somehow. Grinning devilishly, Rodrick sealed his eyes, devising a plan of revenge for dear Odette Channing.


End file.
